Labrador
by jackwabbit
Summary: Jack Comes Through For MacGyver.  Spoilers: The Negotiator, The Widowmaker.  MacGyverJack Dalton Friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Labrador**

Rated: PG-13

Category: Angst, MacGyver/Jack Dalton Friendship

Season: Three

Spoilers: The Negotiator, The Widowmaker

Summary: Jack Comes Through For MacGyver

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**CHAPTER ONE**

Peter Thornton sat at his desk, his head in his hands.

He sat that way a long time, still as a statue. Finally, his shoulders moved upward and then downward heavily, and a loud sigh escaped his lips. He picked up his head and glanced at his phone. His fingers itched to pick it up, to dial the familiar number yet another time, but he knew it would be useless.

MacGyver wouldn't answer. Mac had disappeared, and Pete knew that he stood zero chance of finding a MacGyver that didn't want to be found. Pete sighed again.

Suddenly, the door to his office burst open, and Pete jumped to his feet in response. His words were out before he was fully standing.

"Any word?"

Nikki Carpenter shook her head sadly and shut the door behind her. Pete nodded in resignation and beckoned the younger woman to a chair in front of his desk as he sat again himself.

As Nikki flopped into the chair, Pete snorted softly to himself. He could see the lines of worry around Nikki's eyes, and he knew he wasn't the only one concerned about MacGyver.

The irony of this situation was not lost on Pete. Some days, when he watched Nikki and Mac, he could nearly see the waves of tension radiating off of the two, and he suspected that their constant snippiness and antagonism of each other was just a way to cover up the fact that their begrudging respect for one another had turned into a genuine affection.

Other days, though, Pete had to admit that Nikki Carpenter and MacGyver gave him more headaches than any other five agents he had combined, and on those days, he didn't give a damn about the reasons for their bickering. He only wanted it to stop.

Tonight, however, as Pete contemplated the woman in front of him, he longed to hear Mac's sarcastic voice giving her a hard time. He longed just to know MacGyver was safe, so he could stop worrying, and Nikki could be released from the guilt she was feeling over letting another woman tear MacGyver to shreds. When he finally spoke, Pete's voice was soft.

"You check the houseboat?"

Nikki nodded. "Yeah."

"I've been trying to reach him by phone-both at the house and in the Jeep. I keep coming up empty."

Nikki merely nodded again. "Yeah."

"Look, Nikki, this isn't your fault."

"We should've seen it sooner, Pete. Why did we miss it?"

"I don't know, Nikki, I don't know…" Pete trailed off into another sigh.

It was silent a long moment, but finally Pete spoke again.

"Look, all I know is that you're exhausted. We can't keep this up all night. Go home. Get some rest. Besides, if I know MacGyver, he can handle himself. He'll be ok, Nikki. Go on, get some rest."

Nikki looked up at Pete with doubt in her eyes, and she considered calling him out on his false bravado, but since there was nothing else to be done, she finally gave a reluctant nod and stood.

"Ok, Pete. Tell you what. I'll go home if you will."

Pete laughed a bitter laugh. "I'll be right behind you, Nikki. There's nothing I can do here."

At Nikki's disbelieving look, Pete held up his hands in a placating gesture and spoke gently.

"Honest. Right behind you."

Nikki obviously still didn't believe Pete, but she turned and left anyway. When she was gone, Pete sighed heavily yet again and turned to the phone for the hundredth time in the last hour.

He willed it to ring.

He prayed it would ring.

He hoped against hope that somehow MacGyver would call.

Mac had disappeared right after the hearing with the state EPA, which had concluded nearly thirty-six hours ago, and no one had heard from him since. Pete knew that despite Mac's tough, hardened exterior, this one had cut him deep. MacGyver didn't let anyone get close to him easily, and when he did, it seemed to always go badly for him.

No wonder he preferred to stay only close friends with the women in his life, like Nikki. And Mike. 'God,' thought Pete. 'Mac's just lost Mike, and now this.'

Deborah.

Pete nearly spat on his desk at the thought of that wretched woman who had so coldly and professionally dissected MacGyver. She had manipulated him from the start, and because of his trusting nature, Mac had been completely taken in. He'd actually fallen for her. MacGyver would probably deny it, but Pete had seen the glimmer of joy in Mac's eyes that had been missing for far too long when he was with Deborah, and Pete had been happy to see his friend living a little. MacGyver was a damn good agent, but as his friend, sometimes Pete wanted more for him.

Deborah had looked like that chance for more, and MacGyver had been happy with her.

Happier than he'd been in a long time.

Mac had been in a bad place after Mike's death, but letting Deborah in had seemed to help him heal in a way that time alone couldn't do. MacGyver had been starting to share his life with her.

And he'd had his guts ripped out as his reward.

It had all been a ploy, a ruse, a plot. A way to shut Mac up. Nothing more.

Pete knew his friend was hurting. He also knew there was no way MacGyver would let him help him cope with the hurt. It was much easier for Mac to run, to shut everyone out so he wouldn't be hurt again.

And so, the phone never rang.

Pete didn't know where MacGyver had gone. He'd never known Mac to just completely disappear like this. Even after Mike's death, Pete knew where his friend was, even if that hadn't helped him get through to him at all.

The only thing Pete could think of to do was enlist more help. His brain came up with a thousand ways that Mac could be hurt or dead somewhere, but he knew the police would contact him if that was the case. He'd already called all the local hospitals. No one matching MacGyver's description had been brought in to any of them.

And so, with a feeling of foreboding, Peter Thornton reached for the phone. He mumbled to himself as he did so and shook his head in despair.

"I can't believe I'm doing this…"

Pete hit a single button on the phone. A pleasant female voice answered on the other end of the line in seconds.

"Phoenix Foundation Information Department."

"I need a phone number for a Jack Dalton, please."

"Right away, sir."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Ten minutes later, Jack Dalton was jolted awake by the loud ringing of his bedside telephone. He cursed to himself and groggily rolled over to see who on Earth could be calling him at this hour. The red digital numbers on his alarm clock blazed a bright 11:02, which for Jack wasn't too late (in fact, he was rarely in bed before one in the morning-tonight had been an exception) but certainly was too late for social calls.

As he picked up the phone and mumbled a 'hello?', Jack came awake instantly at the sound of Peter Thornton's voice. Something had to be very wrong for Pete to call him, and Jack felt a surge of panic.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, Pete. What's wrong?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Yeah, well, you and me aren't exactly kimosabe, huh?"

"Yeah…right…Jack, listen…it's MacGyver. You haven't heard from him, have you?"

Jack's panic became an uneasy dread.

"No. Why?"

"He's missing."

"Missing? How? When? Where?"

"Jack, calm down. Calm down and listen to me."

Pete's voice was one of a man used to being obeyed, and for once Jack Dalton closed his mouth. He could tell Pete was worried, so he listened.

He listened for the next fifteen minutes as Pete filled him in on the events of the last three weeks. When Pete finally concluded his tale, Jack was silent for a few seconds on the line, and Pete wondered if he was still there.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, Pete. I'm here. I gotta go, though."

"Oh?"

"I might know where Mac is. Gotta run. Good thing I was in town this week. Thanks, Pete."

"For what?"

"For letting me know."

"Jack, we've already checked the houseboat, the ice rink, and all of MacGyver's usual haunts. Where are you going?"

"Pete, you've known Mac a long time, but there are some things about your boy you aren't privy to. There's a side of MacGyver you don't want to know. I knew him back when that side was a little more obvious. Just trust me. I have some ideas where he might be. Trust me."

Pete sighed over the line. "Just go, Jack. Just go. Good luck."

Pete hung up then, thinking that trusting Jack Dalton was about as smart as having a rattlesnake for a pet, but wondering if Jack just might come through this time after all.

"Here's hoping," said Pete aloud to his empty office.

With that, Peter Thornton got his coat and went home to what was sure to be a long sleepless night, still worried about his best agent and close friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Jack Dalton rode around town a long time before he found what he was looking for. The quiet, darkened bar was just right. He somehow knew it was the place. He'd gone by Mac's houseboat first, just to double check things, and while there'd been no sign of his friend, Jack had seen Mac's Jeep there, so he'd known that wouldn't help him in his search. After a lengthy exploration of the upper class establishments downtown, the seedy bars of the warehouse district, and a lot of general cruising, Jack had headed back down to the waterfront.

He could've smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

Jack had assumed MacGyver had taken a cab to wherever he'd gotten off to tonight, but now he realized that Mac might have walked. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more Jack realized that was probably the case. MacGyver would've wanted to blow off some steam, and a long walk seemed like something he would do.

So, as Jack let his bike's hot engine idle while he looked at the rundown waterfront bar in front of him and tried to think like MacGyver, he knew this was the place. The building screamed of average working-class Joes, and it looked comfortable and inviting. It was nestled between a marina services center and a small boating supply shop. The lights were dim, but not too dim. It was a place where a Minnesotan lover of the water and the waterfront life could find a slice of home.

Jack cut his engine, took one more look at the bar, and dismounted his bike. He walked directly to the door of the bar and stepped inside, out of the cool ocean breezes.

No one greeted Jack at the door. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light inside, but when they did, Jack began casually searching the room for his friend.

Jack's eyes took in the casual feel of the place and its clientele instantly. Several rough-around-the-edges fishermen nodded in greeting as Jack perused the bar, but otherwise no one seemed to notice his presence. The men had the look of hard bodies and soft souls, and in combination with the old school fishing décor of the place, they made Jack immediately fond of the bar. But MacGyver was nowhere to be seen, so Jack wandered over to the bar for a drink-he figured he may as well refresh himself, and maybe that pretty little barmaid had seen Mac.

"Can I help ya?" The young barmaid had noticed Jack's approach.

"Well, now, that depends," said Jack, waggling his bushy eyebrows.

The girl giggled. "On what?"

"On whether you'll let me take you out Friday night, dear lady."

The young woman smiled sweetly, clearly uninterested. "I have to work."

Jack pressed on, undaunted. "Well, in that case, I'll take a sarsaparilla, and perhaps you can help me with another problem."

The barmaid reached under the bar for a frosty mug and then turned to fill it from a tap behind her.

"Root beer, it is, then. What's your other problem?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine…" Jack trailed off as he spoke, suddenly concentrating hard on the mirror behind the bar. The waitress noticed.

"Well, what's he look like?"

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "Oh…um…never mind. Keep the soda, too. Thanks." Jack threw some bills on the counter and turned to go. The barmaid merely shrugged, took a sip of Jack's root beer, and pocketed the cash, mumbling to herself all the while.

"Weirdo. I swear…I gotta get out of this place…"

Jack didn't care what the girl did or said. He'd just seen a flash of longish sandy hair in the mirror. As he turned, he saw a lanky frame climbing into a corner booth at the back of the bar near the restroom. He waited until the man turned, so he could be sure before heading over, and as the man settled into his seat, Jack's heart soared. He was so proud of his own cleverness.

MacGyver!

Alive and in the flesh, right across the bar.

Jack smiled broadly and walked purposefully to the booth.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

When Jack reached MacGyver's table, he stood directly in front of it for a good thirty seconds waiting for a response for the table's occupant. One never came. MacGyver just stared straight in front of him, not seeming to notice Jack's presence. Finally, Dalton couldn't take the silence anymore and he spoke.

"Is this seat taken?"

MacGyver sighed, began to respond, and then looked up slowly. "No, but I don't think I'd be very good…JACK! What are you doing here?"

Dalton grinned his best 'I'm innocent' smile and answered, using his trademark leprechaun Irish accent.

"Oh, you know, just in the neighborhood, laddie. Thought I'd stop into ye old pub for a nip."

Jack's attempt at levity didn't work.

MacGyver looked daggers at his friend and growled back.

"Go away, Jack."

Dalton rocked back on his heels once before answering. "No can do, partner."

MacGyver's voice was laced with warning when he spoke again. "Jack…I'm really not in the mood for company right now…"

Jack regarded MacGyver for a second, then seemed to come to a decision. He nodded his head slightly, squared his jaw, stuck out his chest a bit in a big breath, and then slid into the bench opposite Mac. As he took his seat in the booth, Mac snarled again.

"Jack, I told you…I'm really not in the mood."

Jack snarled back. "Oh, right. I forgot. You'd much rather pull your usual stunt."

"What are you talking about, Jack?"

"I'm talking about the trademark MacGyver cut and run. The 'I'm hurting and I'm going to stew about it for a while and to hell with everyone else' routine. You know, the 'I'm going to wallow in self pity for a while and take out a patent on guilt' act. The 'I can't let anyone in to see me hurt because they might hurt me more' plan. You did it with Mike, and you're doing it now."

At the mention of Mike, murder came into MacGyver's eyes, and an angry response came unbidden. "Don't you dare bring Mike into this. It has nothing to do with her."

Jack pushed on, unafraid. "I'll bring Mike into this if I want to. She was my friend, too, you know."

MacGyver seemed to consider this point a moment, then reluctantly nodded. Jack had a point. Mike had been close to both men. Still…this was different…Mike's death still hurt, a lot, but this new wound added exponentially to that pain.

And Jack hadn't been on that mountain. He couldn't understand. He hadn't heard the conversation between Mike and Mac just before Mike fell. He couldn't possibly comprehend the level of guilt and pain that plagued MacGyver almost daily when he thought of Mike.

He hadn't let Mike in.

His best friend was dead because he rejected her.

So he'd let in the next woman that came along, trying to somehow make up for what he'd done on the mountain.

He had let Deborah in.

And she'd turned out to be a professional killer that was interested in him only as a mark.

'Yeah,' thought MacGyver, 'I sure can pick 'em.'

It was quiet as these thoughts tumbled through Mac's mind for the thousandth time. Jack was studying the table in front of him with great interest. MacGyver was engaged in a similar activity. He was picking idly at his napkin. It was as if the angry outburst over Mike had somehow taken a lot out of both men, and they kept their own company for a moment.

Finally, Jack spoke again.

"Pete told me what happened."

MacGyver's head jerked up as if an invisible string attached to it had been tugged. A look of shocked surprise ran across his features, but it was quickly replaced by anger.

"What?"

"Come on, Mac…you think I come around here often? I was looking for you."

"He had no right to tell you."

"He was worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are."

"Just leave it alone, Jack."

"Come off it, Mac. I'm worried, too. You've been through a lot lately."

"I'm fine."

Jack sighed. He shook his head and leaned back in his bench wearily. After a moment, he sat up again and noticed for the first time a full shot glass of what looked like whiskey on the table.

Jack nodded to the small cup of liquid. "You ordered that, though, huh?"

MacGyver snorted and nodded back. "Yeah."

"Don't see any empties. You drink any?"

"You know I don't drink, Jack."

Jack snorted back. "I know you don't drink _often_. I know you don't drink _socially_. I know you only touch the juice when you really need to dull something down a bit, and I've seen you do just that more than once, old buddy. You may have Pete and all those other Phoenix types fooled, but I know better."

Mac ran a hand up and over his face then down through his hair to rest on the back of his neck. He looked up at Jack after a moment, and somehow his guard seemed to have relaxed, if only a little. Jack saw a pain behind brown eyes that was heartbreaking, and when MacGyver spoke, there was a broken sound to his voice that rarely was heard in the worst of times.

"True."

Jack replied in a soft voice. "Well, I'd say tonight certainly deserves it."

MacGyver chuffed out a small, sarcastic laugh. "No doubt. But if you must know, I never touched it. Couldn't bring myself to bother."

"I can understand that. You've been through a lot. Jesus, Mac…I'm sorry. I know that doesn't cover it, but…damn…I'm sorry."

MacGyver was silent for a few seconds, then whispered a response. "Yeah…thanks…"

The fact that Mac hadn't just blown off Jack's words with an 'it's ok' or a 'don't worry about it' made Jack realize how serious this was, and that finally he was getting through to his friend.

"No problem. Look, kimosabe, you know I'm here if you need me, but I suggest we get out of here. It's closing time, my friend."

MacGyver looked around the bar then, seeming to notice the fact that the other patrons had slowly filtered out the doors over the last half hour for the first time. He nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Let's go."

Mac began to stand, but Jack called him back briefly, nodding at the shot of whiskey on the table between them. "Now, hold on a minute, buddy. You gonna drink that?"

"No."

"You're hopeless, you know that?"

MacGyver smiled a sad smile. "Yeah. Guess so."

"Well, no sense letting it go to waste."

Jack tossed back the shot and gave a satisfied little grunt.

MacGyver shook his head and paid his bill, then the two friends headed out into the night.

When they reached the parking lot, Jack started to head toward his bike, now one of only a few vehicles present. MacGyver did not follow.

It took Jack a moment to realize he was walking alone.

He turned back and called to his friend, who was still standing in the doorway to the bar.

"What gives? You coming or not? Got the sidecar all fixed up and ready."

"I think I'd rather walk. It's a nice night."

Jack looked around at the clear, starry sky. "That it is. Want company?"

MacGyver shrugged, clearly too tired to care much. "If you want."

"Well, it's late, I'm tired, and it's a ways to my house. I could always use the exercise. I'll just get the bike in the morning. It's not far to the houseboat. That is, if you don't mind me crashing there for the night?"

"When has that ever stopped you before?" A hint of a smile danced across Mac's lips as he asked this, and Jack smiled back, glad to see some life in his friend.

"Good point, amigo. Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

It was a long time before Jack Dalton and MacGyver made it to Mac's houseboat, however, and even longer before they slept. The fifteen minute walk to the house was extended to just over two hours, and the route was anything but direct. Somehow, the two men mutually decided to just walk the night away, without discussing it first.

They admired ships and boats in the harbor.

They reminisced about adventures in youth.

They managed to talk a little about Mike, and how much they missed her.

They talked about fishing, camping, work, and hockey.

They talked about everything.

Everything except Deborah.

Somehow, every time Jack thought MacGyver was getting close to his breaking point and the conversation wandered close to that particular soft spot, the subject was changed or things grew quiet entirely until a new subject could be found.

Jack didn't mind.

This was still good therapy for MacGyver. And for him. He'd missed just hanging out with his old friend, and Jack was very much enjoying the night. It looked like Mac was, too. He was too busy walking and talking to feel very sorry for himself, and that alone helped a lot.

When the two men finally stumbled into the houseboat, exhausted but nearly happy, they had worked up an appetite. It was almost time for breakfast, anyway, so a snack seemed in order.

"Hey, Mac, how about some of those famous banana pancakes?" Dalton wheedled.

MacGyver half grinned. "You read my mind, Jack."

As MacGyver began to make preparations for cooking, Jack flipped through an old Sports Illustrated on the counter. He began to read an article on auto racing, and almost missed it when Mac spoke softly from the kitchen.

"She liked these, too."

Jack wasn't sure if he should respond, but he knew Mac was talking about Deborah.

When Jack hesitated, MacGyver continued speaking.

"Or at least she said she did…guess I'll never know, huh?"

The batter was done now, and Mac ladled it onto the griddle.

A sizzling sound filled the room.

Jack still didn't quite know what to say, so he stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

It was the right thing to do. MacGyver plodded on, as if oblivious to Jack.

"I mean, was everything a lie? I know she profiled me and came up with an identity that would get her close to me, but…dammit!"

A spatula clanged to the counter and batter flew everywhere. Mac's eyes squeezed shut, and his entire body seemed to tense up, then freeze.

Jack was still quiet.

The smell of burning pancakes filled the room.

Mac's eyes opened, and he snorted a small chuckle.

"Sorry about the pancakes, Jack."

Finally, Jack's voice returned. "No problem, compadre. There's more batter. I'll get it."

Jack stood then and came around the bar into the kitchen. He bodily steered his friend to a bar stool and then retrieved the abandoned spatula.

It didn't take long to scrape the burned flapjacks off the griddle and start new ones.

Jack understood why Mac had started talking while cooking. There was something about the simple task that made it easier to speak.

"You should be angry, you know. It's ok."

"Yeah." MacGyver nodded absently, while staring into space.

"I mean, I can't even imagine…"

"I don't have to…"

"Yeah."

"Still, if it was just her, I think I could handle it."

Jack's brow furrowed as he flipped two pancakes onto a plate and pushed them to MacGyver.

"What do you mean? Just her?"

MacGyver hesitated, then pushed on. "I don't know…it's just…why'd I fall for it?"

Jack sighed. "Oh, come on, Mac. The girl was gorgeous-Pete told me-it could have happened to any of us. She knew you inside and out. Knew what buttons to push. It was all her, amigo, not you. You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, take some comfort from the fact that at least your part in this wasn't a lie. You were as honest as the day is long. This was not your fault."

"I know that, Jack…it's just…"

"Just what?"

"Nothing."

"No, there's no 'nothing' now…what?"

MacGyver looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Well...it's just…I wanted to let her in."

"Of course you did. Didn't you hear what I just said? She worked it that way, man. Now eat your pancakes before they get cold."

Mac begrudgingly shoveled a forkful of flapjack into his mouth and swallowed before speaking again.

"No, you don't get it, Jack. I…god…it was nice…sometimes…I don't know…I thought that maybe this was my chance to live a normal life. You know, settle down a bit."

Jack's eyebrows hit the ceiling and his eyes grew as large as the pancakes he'd just finished for himself.

"Whoa! What? You mean, settle down, settle down?"

MacGyver shrugged. "Yeah…I don't know. I probably sound pathetic, but sometimes…don't you ever want to, well, settle down, Jack? You know, a dog, a real house, maybe kids, a dog?"

Jack shuddered, but then sobered. "As much as it pains me to say it, yeah…sometimes."

"We're not as young as we used to be, Jack."

"Ain't it the truth? Still…come on, Mac…Jesus…this girl…she…oh, God…you really fell for her. It. Whatever. I'm so sorry, man…"

MacGyver laughed then, but there was no humor in it. His eyes shone with the slightest sheen of tears and it was a minute before he could speak again. Dalton looked away, uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, she seemed so perfect, but you know what they say about things that look too good to be true, Jack."

MacGyver continued to laugh, and the sound took on an almost hysterical, scary quality.

Jack continued to look away, his heart breaking for his friend. More words tumbled out of Mac, but they only barely made sense.

"It's just…when do I get my turn? Just want…I don't know…can't figure out which way is up half the time…clever MacGyver, he'll fix it…but can't decide what to do with himself…average at everything…not great at anything…can't stick with anything long…that's me…oh, hell…and then you add Mike to all this…SHIT!"

Jack Dalton's head snapped to face front instantly. MacGyver cursed very rarely, and when he did it was usually mild, so the expletive got his attention, but it was the words before it that had shattered Jack's resolve to not confront this highly emotional MacGyver.

"What's Mike got to do with all this?"

MacGyver seemed to remember Jack was there for the first time in a while. His rant immediately stopped, and he seemed to be searching for an explanation for his words.

"Oh…it's just that we just lost her…and adding that to this…"

Jack wasn't buying it. Something about how Mac had looked when he realized he had mentioned Mike out loud and something in his nervous explanation just didn't add up. There was more going on here than what appeared at first glance, and Jack knew it.

"I don't think that's what you meant, Mac…what's Mike got to do with this?"

MacGyver leaned back on his stool and pushed his plate away. Jack took it and began eating Mac's mostly untouched pancakes hungrily.

It was a long time before MacGyver spoke. So long that Jack had given up on more conversation.

"I never told you about what happened on the mountain."

Jack mutely shook his head.

MacGyver swallowed the taste of bile in his throat and nodded slightly back.

"You know Mike and I, well…"

Jack interrupted. "Sorta had a thing?"

"Yeah. Well, she…" Mac took a deep breath before continuing. "She…right before she…fell…she told me she wanted to, um, try it out. That she wanted to be with me. Not as a friend."

Jack's heart plummeted to his toes. He felt the tiniest surge of jealousy, but it was quickly squashed, replaced by an overwhelming pain for his friend.

"Oh, man…"

"Yeah. And I pushed her away. She fell a few minutes later. There was nothing I could do. I rejected her the last time I ever spoke to her. She died thinking I…"

Jack interrupted again, and his voice took on a hard edge. "Hey. Stop it. Right now. Mike knew you loved her. We all did. Just…not like that. She knew that, Mac."

"Yeah…but why couldn't I have let her in? Why did I reject someone like Mike and accept De…"

MacGyver couldn't finish the name. He looked down at the counter, and his breathing became hard and fast. Anger radiated from him like light from the sun.

So much anger.

Jack didn't know what to say or do. Words seemed inadequate to express sympathy for this.

MacGyver spared him the need to talk by plowing on after a minute of silence.

"You said it yourself, Jack. I can't let anyone in. Always been that way. I can't help it. I pushed Mike back out of habit as much as anything else…and then…well, now she's gone…"

Jack's voice was barely a whisper as he responded. "Maybe that's why Deborah was so appealing, Mac. Ever thought about that? A bit of a rebound effect?"

"Yeah. Maybe. It's just…if I hadn't been so stupid, so blind…if I had just let my guard down for one minute on the mountain, Mike would still be with us, and this other thing might never have happened. Mike and I might have worked, Jack-you always said it would-and then they wouldn't have been able to get to me like this…"

MacGyver's hands balled into fists and slammed once into the counter before coming up to rub wearily at his eyes. He ground his eyeballs so hard that Jack thought surely they would burst.

Suddenly, Jack Dalton's distinct voice rang out in the silent house. It was strong and sure.

"MacGyver."

Mac looked up, but did not speak.

"Mac, listen to me. I'm only going to say this once. You can't change what happened on that mountain, and even if you could, there's no guarantee it would make this situation any better. If somehow Mike was still here with us and you two were an item, the bad guys would have just gotten rid of you another way. You'd most likely be dead, and maybe Mike, too. While I'll admit that that might be less painful for you, it'd be a hell of a lot more painful for me, and for Pete and Nikki and everyone else who cares about you, too, so I'll hear no more of it. Capiche?"

MacGyver's mouth moved up and down a few times, but his voice seemed to have left him.

Jack continued.

"And as for a 'normal life', well, comrade, this is your normal life. Mine, too. Do you really think you could give up the adventure and excitement of what you do? Honestly?"

MacGyver thought for a minute, then shook his head. "Probably not."

"No probably to it, friend. You'd go nuts in a nine to five. And I know you. You'd take one if you had a family to worry about. So, guess what? This is it for now, so you might as well make the best of it. Now, I'm going to call Pete and let him know his wayward lamb has come home. Then I propose a nap, then maybe an afternoon of hockey practice for you to blow off some steam and more napping for me. What'cha think?"

Jack's eyebrows waggled in his characteristic way, and MacGyver nearly smiled. He nodded, then stood and made his way to the bathroom.

When he returned, Jack was just hanging up the phone.

"Pete says hello and to take as much time as you need off. Nikki says not to scare her like that again. And I say I'm not so tired as I was a bit ago. Wanna watch some 'Bonanza'?"

Jack held up a tape of the recorded Western, knowing it was one of MacGyver's favorites.

MacGyver laughed. "Sure, Jack. Why not?"

The two men settled on the couch then and as the tape began to roll, they both grew quiet.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

Five hours later, MacGyver woke slowly and groggily looked around the room. He was laying on the couch, and couldn't remember getting that way from his previous sitting position. A soft comforter covered him-it usually stayed upstairs. His shoes had been removed.

As his senses returned, Mac noticed a slip of paper on the coffee table in front of him. He picked it up and read the simple note. A smile spread over his face. It was his first real smile since the warehouse, and the first sign that perhaps he would get through this after all.

_I'm upstairs if you need anything. Wake me when you get up. -Jack_

A slight flush of embarrassment flooded MacGyver for a second. Jack Dalton had tucked him in like a child. It was usually the other way around. The feeling fled almost immediately, however, and was replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the comforter.

Pete often complained about how MacGyver constantly let Jack Dalton drag him into his various schemes that usually ended in trouble for everyone, but there was a very good reason Mac had a hard time saying no to Jack. Sure, the puppy dog expression and the whining and the fact that he always swore it was the last time helped, but the real reason was simple.

Jack was Mac's Labrador.

MacGyver loved Labradors, but he lived under no delusions that they were perfect dogs.

He knew Labradors cause a lot of trouble. They chew shoes, mess up floors, drool all over, and eat a fortune in food. They shed like crazy, get mud all over, and always manage to get underfoot just in time to cause a major tumble.

But they're always there when you've had a bad day. They somehow always know when they need to be extra good, either because you're feeling a little fragile or they've done something really wrong.

They're always there when you need them.

They never bite when a growl will do.

And even at their worst, they always seem to be able to tilt their heads sideways just right or do just the right thing to make you realize that you wouldn't want to live without them.

Jack caused his fair share of trouble, but he always came through for MacGyver in the end, and he really did know a few things about Mac that Pete, as his boss, would never know. He'd been a faithful companion for almost as long as Mac could remember, and there were some things that were just easier to talk about with Jack than with just about anyone else, including himself.

Last night had been Jack's time to shine, and he had done so brilliantly.

Jack was his friend.

Perhaps he would get through this after all.

With a little help from his friends.


	7. Chapter 7

**EPILOGUE**

Peter Thornton sat next to Jack Dalton in the semi-frigid air of an ice rink.

They sat in silence, watching an open scrimmage on the ice below.

Suddenly a blue team player checked a red player violently into the boards.

"Ouch," said Pete.

Jack nodded. "Yeah. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that."

"That was MacGyver, wasn't it? Doing the checking?"

"Yep."

"I've never known him to play so roughly."

"Well, that check wasn't illegal, Pete. It was totally justified. It wasn't like it was uncalled for or anything."

"Yeah, but still…this is only a practice game. He's pretty intense out there, huh?"

"Well, he's got some anger to get out of him."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true. You think he's going to be ok?"

"Nope." Jack shook his head.

Pete looked alarmed. "What?"

"I _know_ he's going to be ok."

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am. I know MacGyver. It'll take some time, but he'll bounce back."

"Guess I'll have to trust you on that, Jack."

Jack Dalton laughed loudly, causing Pete to look around in alarm.

"What?"

"Nothing, Petey. Just never thought I'd see the day when you actually said you'd trust me. Moi. Wow! Stop the presses! Alert the media!"

"Shut up, Jack."

Jack gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

A loud buzzer went off, halting conversation.

The game below broke up, and a tall forward skated over to the exit.

The man pulled off his helmet and long blondish brown hair spilled out of it.

He was sweaty, and there was a bruise forming along one side of his jaw, but he was smiling.

A tremendous grin nearly split his face in two.

Pete looked over at Jack incredulously at the sight, and Jack merely nodded sagely before losing his battle to make a comment.

"See? Told you he's going to be fine."

"Yeah, I think you're right, Jack. I think you're right."

MacGyver saw his two friends in the stands then, and stopped visiting with his fellow players. He skated over to where Jack and Pete sat and nodded in greeting.

"Didn't know you two were coming down today. What gives?"

"Just thought we'd come down to see the genius at work," Jack teased.

MacGyver gave Jack a look and addressed Pete. "Whatever. Look, I'm starving. Wanna get out of here and get a bite to eat?"

Pete seemed to think this over only a second before agreeing. "Sure. I could go for dinner. Jack?"

"I'm game, compadre."

"Ok, just let me get showered and changed."

"Please," plied Pete. "But don't dawdle, ok? It's freezing in here, and I keep having flashbacks to when you made me play goalie for you. I'm starting to ache just thinking about it."

MacGyver laughed then, and both Pete and Jack thought it was a beautiful sound. One that had been missing for the last few weeks, but was slowly finding its way out into the world again.

MacGyver made the same mock salute Jack had exhibited earlier and began to skate away. He turned around after only a few feet and looked back, his eyes full of teasing glee.

"Oh, you know you can't get enough of the hockey, eh?"

Mac turned back around then without another word and skated toward the locker rooms, leaving Pete and Jack laughing loudly at his over the top fake Canadian accent.

When they had recovered enough to speak, Pete looked over at Jack and smiled.

"You know, Jack, I don't think you're right after all. I know you are."

Jack stood then and clapped Pete forcefully on the back.

"Yes, well, you really should trust me more often, Peter, old boy."

Pete sighed and stood. The two men started up the stairs to the spectator exit. As they did, Jack hooked an arm around Pete's shoulder and continued speaking.

"So, Pete. Did I ever tell you about my great aunt Zelda, who collected a great treasure in silver but then mysteriously disappeared? Well, you see…there's this riddle in her old house, and…"

Pete shook his head but didn't interrupt. A joking MacGyver and a scheming Jack Dalton meant things were almost back to normal in Pete's odd little triangle of friends, and after the last few weeks, normal he could handle.

He doubted it would last, but he would take it while he could get it.


End file.
